Dreamcatcher
by Once Upon a Faerytale
Summary: Karigan has a nightmare and runs into Zachary. Cue the hot chocolate and hand holding. Unabashed fluff.


Karigan woke from the nightmare with a start, heart pounding and breath quick as a hummingbird's wing. Her room was dark and she fumbled for a candle, the tightness in her chest only easing once the dim glow lit up the room. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat up as the panic ebbed, dread falling from her shoulders like the blanket she pushed back. She clenched one fist in her blankets and the other around her candle holder, glancing away from the starlit square of her window.

It wasn't every night she had the nightmare, but it was always the same one, all the more frightening because she couldn't tell where the threat lay. The sliver of moon told her it wasn't far past midnight, and Karigan squeezed her eyes shut, mourning her lost sleep. She knew from experience that she wouldn't be getting back to sleep again that night. Nobody would be awake this late, either, and a week of restless nights had let her not only catch up on but overtake her rider duties. She didn't want to dwell on her dreams, and despaired of finding a distraction until she remembered Mara's advice.

When Mara first noticed Karigan's insomnia, she'd suggested taking a trip down to the kitchens, which was apparently Ben's secret pick me up when Mara had been healing from the fire.

The idea hadn't caught Karigan's interest before now, but the thought of warm food and drink was a siren's call in her frigid room. Would there be anyone in there, so late at night? Probably not, which meant she'd have the hot chocolate to herself. Karigan nodded and wrapped her greatcoat around herself, slipped on a pair of shoes, picked up the candle, and set off. She didn't see anyone on the walk there, too early for even the servants to be up. In the dark, the halls were endlessly long. She counted down past doorways and around corners until she found the door Mara mentioned, and slipped inside, wincing as the heavy doors creaked on their hinges. It was the first sound she'd hears since she left the Rider Wing. A wash of warm air assaulted her, courtesy of the huge fireplace which lit the room with a warm orange glow. She drifted forward without meaning to, wanting nothing but to crowd around that fire and let its warmth scour away her dream. Distracted, it took her a moment to notice the rest of her surroundings. The corners of the room fad With a start, Karigan spotted somebody in the corner, face and body in deep shadow. Probably a cook's assistant.

"Don't mind me. I'm here for the hot chocolate."

"You're welcome to share mine, if you like."

Karigan started. "Your Majesty?" Karigan's mouth dropped open before she remembered herself and dropped into a quick bow. The king waved a hand at her, standing up and heading for one of the cupboards. When he turned around, he held a second mug, tipped towards her.

"Y-you don't have to do that." Karigan wanted nothing more than to slink out of the room with her tail between her legs.

"Probably not." The king grinned at her. "I'm doing it anyway. Come join me."

Karigan hesitated while he returned to his spot and pulled out a second chair. He filled the second mug from a pitcher on the table and sat it in front of the chair, smile widening as she refused to move.

"It's going to get cold, you know." The spare mug was inviting, the king's smile still more so. The fire popped, sending a swirl of sparks and heat out, deciding her. Her room was cold and empty, and held no hot chocolate.

"Thank you." Karigan crossed the room and sat. She hadn't realised how tightly she'd been wound until she sighed and let her shoulders slump as she took a sip, meeting the king's eyes. It was still warm from the pitcher and almost too sweet, with just a hint of spice.

"So how is it?" The king asked.

"Not bad." Karigan watched him as he took a sip of his own. All he wore was a loose shirt and slacks, not even his customary silver circlet. A shock of amber hair fell in front of his eyes, and he leaned his elbows on the table, dark smudges under his eyes. He put his mug down and licked his lips, and Karigan pulled back with a start. When had she leaned forwards?

"So. What brought you out here?"

Karigan shrugged and peered into her mug, unsure if she wanted to answer. "Trouble sleeping." She hesitated. "Why are you here?"

"Taking a break from running the country. Every minor noble seems convinced their problem is of utmost importance, and that I'm the only one able to help." He rolled his eyes heavenward, and Karigan felt a pang of sympathy.

"And here I thought nightmares were bad." Karigan shook her head, and a lock of hair slipped free of its loose ponytail. Before she could tuck it back, the king reached out, fingertips brushing against her neck as he drew his hand back. Karigan shivered. He glanced away from her, pink on his cheeks and hands clasped around his mug. She imagined slipping her hands into his, comparing the warmth of his skin to the warmth of her mug. When was the last time she'd spoken with him, just themselves? She hadn't exactly been seeking out his company lately.

He looked back up quickly. "You're having nightmares?"

Karigan nodded. "Always the same one. I'm up in the night sky, alone and surrounded by stars."

The king gave her a dubious look.

Karigan shoved her hair behind her ears impatiently, determined to wipe the look off his face. "It's not as relaxing as it sounds. The stars are so far away, but they press in until I feel like they're going to tear through my skin, pull me apart, all at the same time. I'm just one person, I can't fight the stars, like I'm going to shatter to pieces, and then I wake up." She shook her head. "It's not-"

The king reached out and rested his hand on hers. It was only then that Karigan realised she'd twisted her hands together until her knuckles were bone white and aching.

"I think I understand." He ran a thumb over her knuckles and she let out a shaky breath. Right. That was probably how he felt, letters piling up and people demanding things of him wherever he turned.

They shared a smile. The king's hand still rested in hers. He realised at the same time she did, and went to pull back. Karigan wasn't sure, exactly, why she did what she did next. But she gripped his hand in hers, slipping her fingers between his. She glanced up at him and caught her breath at the intensity of his stare, eyes and smile soft as he looked at her. He swallowed and glanced down at their hands, then away, lifting his mug and drinking. Karigan would have bet money on him doing so only to hide the blush she'd glimpsed on his cheeks. She was sure her face was even redder, and she dug her heels into the struggling easiness and adjusted her hand to a more comfortable angle. His hand was warm, calluses on his fingers and palm and a smear of ink over one knuckle.

They sat like that, hands clasped between them on the table, as they finished their drinks.

"I suppose you have to return to your letters."

They stood together, dipped their mugs and the pitcher into the bucket of water in the sink, hands linked all the while. Something in Karigan's chest twinged, knowing that they'd have to let go eventually. They stood there, in front of the fire, watching each other in the silence. The king lifted her hand, lips brushing over her knuckles, barely light enough to feel. He let his fingers slip free, hand falling back before Karigan caught it up in hers. Before she could second-guess herself, she kissed his palm, his fingers coming up the cup her jaw. She let him go with a sigh, lips tingling, jaw burning where his fingers had trailed.

"I hope your nightmares stop soon. If you ever want someone to sit with, though, I'm usually up in my study, if I'm awake then."  
"Perhaps." And she genuinely meant it. It had been good to sit with him, letting his silent companionship soothe her. Suffocatingly close, and far as the stars.

They parted outside the kitchen, and the cold wrapped back around her, slipping past her coat. For the first time, Karigan noticed the back shield, candlelight catching on their eyes as they stepped up beside the king.

"Goodnight, your Majesty."

"Zachary. I owe you at least that."

"Goodnight. Zachary." Had she ever addressed him as such?

Zachary headed one way and she the other, and she had to resist the temptation to watch him as he left, lamp bobbing further and further away. She smiled to herself and flexed the hand he'd held as she made her way back to the Rider wing. She wasn't sure for how much longer she'd have the nightmares, but they were suddenly a lot less frightening than they had been.


End file.
